


Occasionally

by TheSleeplessWriter



Series: Johnlock [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fanfiction, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Romance, Short Story, opposite of slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 06:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSleeplessWriter/pseuds/TheSleeplessWriter
Summary: Sherlock and John were just best friends who shared a bed. And occasionally fucked. But that didn't change the friendship.





	Occasionally

John didn't like to discuss exactly what their relationship was at the moment. Hell, he didn't even know if he could call it a relationship. Is there a word for best friend flat mates that occasionally fuck each other?

It all started very quickly. There was no gradual development. Sherlock was wrapped in a white sheet and standing at the kitchen table, tinkering with his most neon chemicals. John was sitting next to him, typing up the newest post for his blog. 

As he was organizing the little bottles from least to most dangerous, his hand slipped and the white sheet fell. Sherlock didn't bother to pick it back up, his eyes just slowly rose up to meet John's. 

There was no polite way to say it. John was unabashedly ogling him. Specifically at his...erm, downstairs. Things got a bit muddy after that. There was a lot of kissing, moaning, and wild hands. Before John knew what was happening, he had his pants around his ankles and was full on buggering the shit out of his best friend who was bent over the kitchen table. 

After some of the best orgasms they've ever had, Sherlock and John very awkwardly parted ways, as John had to leave for work. His legs were still wobbly as he buttoned up his pants. 

They didn't really talk about it after. The two accepted it as a one off thing. Things returned to normal. Well, as normal as a genius consulting detective and his loyal blogger could get. 

And then it happened again. They were sitting on the couch, watching an older episode of Poirot. Sherlock leaned closer to John, resting his curly head on John's shoulders. John didn't mind. To be honest, it felt good, warm and relaxing even. 

And the Sherlock started to kiss his neck, slowly and comfortingly. Simply out of surprise, John moved his head back, away from Sherlock's touch. This was starting to feel familiar. 

Sherlock lifted his head, his mouth quirking in a frankly adorable way. "You're acting like we haven't already fucked."

John felt his cheeks warm. Why did he have to put it so bluntly?

"Look, you're even blushing. You weren't blushing when you had me bent over the table." Sherlock said in a sly voice, moving closer and closer to John until he was practically sitting in his lap. 

It seemed those were the trigger words. The words that broke the camel's back and made him want to fuck his flat mate. 

John grabbed at Sherlock's waist, tugging him closer as he kissed him with force. Needless to say, these two were too busy to hear who the murderer was. 

After that, it became a semi-regular occurrence. Every now and then, Sherlock would either tap John's back or give him knowing glances, and the two would be at it like rabbits. 

But they didn't act like they were fuckbuddies. Outside of the fiery sessions, nothing changed. Oddly enough, they tried to hold onto the best friends part of their relationship. 

One particularly strenuous session took place late at night in Sherlock's room. Languid and tired from the night of fun, John fell asleep in Sherlock's bed. 

After that, he never slept in his own room again. 

The complexities of their relationship was unwillingly brought up in Dublin. Sherlock was sure a triple murderer had fled there, and decided that they could stay a few days after the case was solved to enjoy the city. Unfortunately, the plane was late, and they arrived at the hotel around 3 am. 

While Sherlock was arguing with a tourist about how his wife was definitely pregnant with someone else's child, John booked a room. 

Behind the desk was a small brunette with bluish bags underneath her tired greens eyes. Her name tag read Dina. 

"Y'know, I think it's real sweet to see you two being so open with your relationship. Most tend to hide it." The employee said conversationally, a small smile on her face. 

"Oh, well, we're not together. We're just good friends." John said awkwardly. He didn' even notice that he had started wringing his hands. 

"You've rented a single room. There's only one bed in that, Love." Dina's voice became a touch more hard. She certainly had a good bullshit detector. 

"We're sharing. For the cost. Low budget life we lead." John poorly covered up his lie with a false smile. Why couldn't she just give him the damn key?

"His coat's over a thousand pounds." She pointed out, her arms crossed. 

"Rich brother?" 

Dina quietly chuckled. "You make a cute couple. No need to be ashamed."

The woman was quite the good detective. 

"Yeah, I suppose." John admitted sheepishly. Truthfully speaking, he had just admitted it to himself as well. He had to accept that this was what life was going to be like now, and that clinging to the past was just making a confusing life. They didn't need a name to call their relationship. It was just their relationship. 

"Thanks for that." He added, knowing she wouldn't understand. 

A loud slap rung throughout the lobby. John turned to find a fuming red man berating Sherlock and telling him to stay out of his business. Sherlock's face had a a bright, angry welt darkening on his cheek. 

John's fists were already clenched and ready to deliver an almighty punch to the tourist, but a hand stopped him. 

"I'll take care of him. You go take care of that lovely man of yours." Dina said, stepping out from behind the counter. 

"Well, he does seem a bit like an arse for picking fights." She added in retrospect before marching over to confront the man. 

"I know. But he's my arse. And I love him for it."

**Author's Note:**

> It feels so good to write Johnlock again. I've been very busy and have had a lack of inspiration. Hopefully after this little fic, I can get back into writing more often! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave kudos, comments, and constructive criticism. :)


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